


the sun always rises (after the rain)

by book_worm321



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Happy Ending, M/M, Minor Flashbacks to his life under Mary Lou, OC's are Credence's adoptive parents, The Applewoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/book_worm321/pseuds/book_worm321
Summary: Sweet, docile Credence punches someone in the face, much to the confusion of everyone.Turns out there was a pretty good reason why.OR Credence rescues Newt.





	the sun always rises (after the rain)

Credence was having a very bad day.

 

He sits with his head bowed, hands clamped between his knobby knees to prevent the tremors from being obvious. He stares blankly at his lap as Headmaster Abernathy lectures him for his unruly behaviour.

 

“This behaviour is unbecoming, Credence! Truly! I expect much better of my students, especially when in public.” Mr. Abernathy drones on, his voice shrill with anger.

 

The Headmaster had never liked him much (Not ever since his adoptive parents had to bribe his way into his elite school).

 

Credence had been rescued from his previous adoptive family, the Barebones, a few years ago. A young Auror had seen the blood stains dotting the back of his threadbare jacket and deduced the young man’s circumstance. Credence had been relocated by the end of the week, and a foster family had happily taken him in by the end of the month.

 

Credence always tries to be on his best behaviour. And usually, it’s not that difficult (not in comparison to the many rules he learnt under Mary-Lou’s heavy hand). But today had been different. Credence didn’t quite understand what possessed him to punch his schoolmate in the face, but he can’t bring himself to regret it either.

 

Mr. Abernathy was still blubbering on about the indecency of Credence’s actions when the office doors burst open. Mr. and Mrs. Applewood storm into the room, their eyes ablaze with a fierce anger Credence has never seen before. Credence shrinks in his seat, bracing himself. His foster parents have never hurt him, but this time feels different. He’s never caused so much trouble before.

 

Mr. Applewood doesn’t round his anger on Credence however, he addresses the Headmaster directly. “What is the meaning of this, Headmaster Abernathy?”

 

“If you would take a seat we could discuss—“

 

“We’re fine standing, thank you. What I would appreciate is an answer to my question.” Mr. Applewood cuts in smoothly. The anger in his eyes not betrayed in his voice.

 

The Headmaster is clearly taken aback by the cold rejection, and sputters his next response. “I—Credence has acted most uncivilly. He harmed another student—“

 

“Harmed another student? You’re telling me that my son,” The word that usually brought pleasant butterflies to Credence’s stomach settled like rocks in the pit of Credence’s stomach.

 

 “would hurt another student?”

 

Mr. Applewood is a mild-mannered man. He never raises his voice, and always treats others with kindness. Seeing him standing rigidly, eyes spitting fire, and tone on the edge of condescending is ludicrous to Credence.

 

Perhaps the same demon that possessed Credence to punch Gregory in the face—that prick—is possessing his adoptive father now.

 

Headmaster Abernathy is quick to defend himself. “There are witnesses, Mr. Applewood. A whole group of students were present, and luckily intervened before Credence could inflict anymore damage onto one of our best students.”

 

If Mr. Applewood is surprised at this news, he doesn’t show it. He addresses Credence, without taking his eyes away from the headmaster. “Credence?”

 

It only makes Credence feel worse that his adoptive father still holds a note of disbelief in his voice, despite the mounting evidence. So, Credence squares his shoulders and confesses.

 

“I punched Gregory in the face.”

 

Only now does his adoptive father turn to face him, brows heavy with disappointment. Usually, that is all the reprimand Credence needs to be shuffled back in line. But today it’s not enough.  Credence holds his father’s gaze unflinchingly, squaring his jaw. He’s not sorry.

 

Mr. Applewood’s brows furrow further in confusion. “Headmaster Abernathy, may we have the room?”

 

Mr. Abernathy sputters again, unused to being ordered around. “I don’t think—“

 

“This is a matter to be discussed within the family. We won’t be long.” Cuts the curt response.

 

Mr. Abernathy puffs out his chest, but doesn’t dare disagree again. “Very well.”

 

The door clicks softly behind the Headmaster’s retreating figure.

 

There are a few plush chairs arranged throughout the Headmaster’s office. With a quick flick of his wand, Mr. Applewood has arranged three in a tight circle. He and Mrs. Applewood seat themselves and for a moment no one speaks.

 

Credence feels his body coiling tighter in anticipation. This is unchartered grounds. Deep down, he knows his new family won’t hurt him, but his hands shake anyway. His knees clamp harder, until the flesh turns bone-white and his fingers go numb.

 

Mrs. Applewood is the first to break the silence, “Credence, dear, you’re hurting yourself.” She reaches out and steals Credence’s hands from between his knees and holding them between her own. Credence can’t help the flinch—he remembers how much pain can be felt from such a small area—but he doesn’t pull away.

 

 His mother’s hands are warm in comparison to his abused ones. He holds absolutely still as she gently massages the feeling back into his fingers, one at a time.

 

The next person to speak is Mr. Applewood.

 

“What happened Credence?”

 

Credence doesn’t actually know what to say, or how to explain himself. He hopes he can avoid the explanation altogether; just admit his guilt, accept his punishment, and move on.

 

“I know I shouldn’t have hit him.” Credence says.

 

Mr. Applewood tilts his head inquisitively, looking Credence up and down. “You say that, but you aren’t sorry that you did.”

 

Damn his perceptiveness.

 

Credence feels his jaw square again, his teeth grinding together. Fucking Gregory.

 

“No, I’m not sorry.”

 

Mr. Applewood sits back in his chair, drums his fingers along the armchair in contemplation.

 

“Were you defending yourself, Credence?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did he threaten you?”

 

“No.”

 

Mr. Applewood lets out a deep sigh through his nose. His fingers keep druming along the armchair. All in all, he’s not as angry as Credence thought he would be.

 

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, Credence, instead of making us pry it out of you?”

 

There is that disappointed tone again. But Credence doesn’t know how to put it into words. He doesn’t say anything.

 

Mr. Applewood sighs again, before resuming his questions; resolute in trying to get to the bottom of the story.

 

“Were they threatening someone else? Someone you know?”

 

Credence hesitates. “No.”

 

But Mr. Applewood is a perceptive man. He leans forward in his seat, elbows on his knees. “Someone you don’t know?”

 

Credence won’t lie. Can’t lie, really. “Uhm.”

 

Mr. Applewood latches onto the lead. “This stranger, were they in danger from this Gregory fellow?”

 

“Uhm. Not really.” Credence squirms in his seat. The situation hadn’t been that straightforward.

 

“Was Gregory hurting them, Credence?” His father’s gaze is too heavy to hold, so Credence drops his eyes to his lap.

 

“Not physically,” is his mumbled reply.

 

“With words, then?” Mr. Applewood sounds so understanding. But Credence doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand why he got so angry when Gregory was shouting at the pair of boys.

 

“You can’t hurt people with words. It shouldn’t matter.” Credence growls out vehemently. But it did matter. For some reason, it mattered. And Credence couldn’t understand why.

 

Mrs. Applewood is the one to reply this time. “Of course words can hurt, Credence.”

 

Credence feels the anger bubble in his chest for the second time that day. An ugly feeling clawing at his throat. “No they don’t. Fists hurt. Belts hurt. Kneeling for hours on end hurts. Not having food for a day hurts. Words don’t hurt. They shouldn’t matter. They’re just… words.” Credence argues, fighting with himself as much as his parents.

 

Mrs. Applewood lifts one hand from its place holding Credence’s, to cradling his cheek. “Some would say that words hurt more than physical injuries. Words stay with us up here,” she gently taps his temple, “much longer than wounds.”

 

“It shouldn’t matter.” Credence whispers, throat dry and hoarse.

 

Mrs. Applewood give him a sad smile. “You don’t actually believe that, or else you wouldn’t have punched the young Gregory, now would you, Credence?”

 

Credence blinks. Opens his mouth and closes it again.

 

Oh.

 

“What were they saying to this stranger, Credence?” Mr. Applewood asks.

 

Credence is still reeling from the earlier realization, that he answers more candidly than he had planned too. “There were two boys, in a nearby alley. They…” Credence’s brain caught up just in time to cut himself off.

 

But when Credence meets his father’s eyes, he realizes he didn’t stop himself soon enough.

 

“What were these boys doing, Credence?”

 

Credence bites his tongue. His earlier anger quickly shifts to shame, and his eyes water in response.

 

“Kissing? More?” Mr. Applewood presses.

 

Oh no. No, no, no.

 

Credence feels a sob build in his chest, barely choking it down. His shoulders shake.

 

“Oh darling.” Mrs. Applewood says, pulling Credence forward into a hug.

 

Credence falls into it willingly. It hides his face.

 

Mrs. Applewood gently stokes his hair. “It’s alright, there is nothing wrong with that Credence. Nothing wrong at all.”

 

Credence’s whole body is shaking, but Credence won’t let himself cry. He doesn’t know if he can. “It’s illegal.”

 

“Oh no!” Mrs. Applewood pulls him away, holds his face between her warm, kind hands. “Not in our world it isn’t, Credence.”

 

Credence furrows his brow. “But why…” How could that be true?

 

“That kind of… activity is still frowned upon in most social circles. But it is no longer outlawed. Credence,” Mrs. Applewood continued, “you can’t change who you are. In here,” she gently rests a hand over his pounding heart, “and we would never ask you to pretend to be anything other than yourself.”

 

Credence can’t seem to breathe. Tears a running down his cheeks unimpeded.

 

“But—I’m—“ Credence hiccups.

 

Mrs. Applewood gives him a bright, watery smile. “Yes. And we love you. All of you.”

 

Relief. It floods his system, uncoiling from his gut and spreading to his every limb. He feels like he’s floating. What did he do to deserve such wonderful people?

 

Mrs. Applewood pulls him into a hug, Mr. Applewood joining in from the side, enveloping both of them into his arms. They stay like that for a long time, silently crying.

 

When the knock at the door comes, they gently detangle themselves. Mrs. Applewood briefly kisses his temple.

 

They straighten their clothing before Mr. Applewood answers the door. He informs the headmaster that the matter has been handled before bidding their goodbyes.

 

They walk out arm in arm. Credence is exhausted, but lighter.

 

Just as they were existing the building to find the nearest apparition point, a group of three men accost them.

 

Mr. Applewood has his wand half raised before Credence recognizes one of the men.

 

“Oh! You’re ok!” Credence exclaims, addressing a tall, but young, read-haired man wearing the same blue coat as earlier.

 

“Ah yes, thanks to you.” The redhead offers an awkward, but dazzling smile, peaking up from beneath his fringe. He has a British accent “I wanted to make sure you were ok, too? I saw you get pulled away. I hope you aren’t in too much trouble, because of what happened earlier.”

 

“No, I’m alright. Thank you.” Credence says.

 

“Good, that’s good. I’m Newt, by the way. Newt Scamander.” The brit says, offering his hand.

 

“Credence Applewood. These are my parents.” Credence says, gesturing to his adoptive family.

 

Newt smiles again, but it appears forced. “Ah, a pleasure. Your son was a great help with the, uhm, situation today.”

 

“It’s ok, they know what happened.” Credence informs the brit.

 

Newt’s bright smile comes back in full force. “Ah, good! I’m never sure what is and isn’t illegal in the colonies nowadays. You all have such backwards laws.”

 

“Newt, be civil.” Cuts in an even taller red-haired man. This one steps forward and also offers his hand to Credence. “Theseus. Newt’s my little brother. I wanted to thank you personally, for what you did today.”

 

Credence shakes the man’s massive hand and gets pulled in closer by his elbow “It was no trouble.” Credence mumbles, slightly overwhelmed by all the attention.

 

“Hm. Newt told me much to the contrary,” Theseus say, patting Credence’s hand. “No matter. I don’t hold much influence on this side of the pond, but if you or your family is ever in London, feel free to call on us.” And with one last smile, the man lets him go.

 

“And if you did get into trouble, my friend here,” Theseus gestures behind himself to the third man. “this is—“

 

But Credence knows this man, and can’t choke back his surprise, “Auror Graves.”

 

The man looks much the same as he did the first day they met, at a Second Salemers Meeting.

 

Graves tilts his head in acknowledgment, “Credence, it’s nice to see you. It’s been a few years, hasn’t it?” The man’s voice is as deep and rich as it had sounded that first day.

 

“Ah, yes.”

 

Graves nods once, before addressing Credence’s parents “Robert, Rosalind. It’s a pleasure to see you again, even under such circumstances.”

 

Mr. Applewood shakes the Auror’s hand firmly. “Likewise, Auror Graves.”

 

“What you did today was very brave, Credence.” Graves says. “Not many people would have done what you did. Especially for a stranger.”

 

“Yes, well… it’s like you told me that first night we met, Auror Graves: _we protect our own_.” Credence says, eyes briefly flickering over to Newt as he says it, before looking back at the Auror that saved him.

 

Credence sees the moment the Auror makes the connection. His eyes betray his surprise for only a moment before he schools his expression. “Indeed, we do, Credence.” His tone holds an emotion Credence cannot identify. Whatever it is, it makes the young man’s stomach flutter.

“Unfortunately,” Graves says, “We must get going, unless we want these two brits to miss their boat. But, Credence,” Graves his pulling something out of his coat, a small card. He hands it to Credence, who takes it with two hands.

 

“In case you ever want to consider a career with MACUSA. We could use more people like you.” With one last smile, Graves and the two Scamanders walks away, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Applewood to watch their retreating backs, while Credence is still staring at the card cradled in his hands.

 

_Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security._

 

Credence couldn’t control the blush that crept into his cheeks. Credence had the feeling that he been offered more than just a job. And when he looked up, the arch of Mrs. Applewood’s brow only confirmed his feeling.

 

Well, today has turned out to not be such a bad day after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts ~
> 
> Also, you can find me on tumblr: https://book-worm321.tumblr.com/


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